


To The Grave

by ChromiumHeart



Category: Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hux needs a hug, Major character death - Freeform, Post-TLJ, The Last Jedi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 02:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13180125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChromiumHeart/pseuds/ChromiumHeart
Summary: Kylo Ren has left the First Order and a surprise attack on the Finalizer does not bode well for Armitage Hux and Captain Phasma.





	To The Grave

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Major Character Death  
> Setting: Post-TLJ

General Hux's body lurched with the sudden movement of the Star Destroyer and a gloved hand came up to catch himself on a beam until the motion stopped. The other hand slammed hard down onto a comm panel;

"I said scramble the TIEs immediately!" He bellowed into the comm, not waiting for a reply as he continued his rushed pace through the ship. 

Another direct hit almost sent him tripping over his feet, and the automated voice came on over speakers to tell him which decks had been damaged. They had tried to prepare themselves because everyone knew when Kylo Ren left, it wouldn't be long until the Resistance arrived to put an end to their fleet. 

_That damned child!_ Hux cursed internally, _I should have been put in charge, I would have airlocked Ren..._

He stopped briefly to check the damage of the ship and how his fleet of TIE fighters were faring against the Resistance forces. As he zoomed in on the ships stats, a particularly violent hit sent him sprawling to the ground, the map lighting up and sending troops scrambling in the other direction. 

With a grunt he picked himself up off the floor and typed a familiar name into search, paling when he realized where they were. 

Legs carried him faster than he had ever moved before. General Hux wasn't exceptionally fit, but he was tall and his footfalls were rather graceful for a man of his height. 

As he approached his destination he was choked by smoke, his eyes stinging and throat instantly feeling like it was being constricted. He covered his mouth and nose the best he could with his arm as he punched in an authorization code, durasteel doors grinding slowly open. 

The heat was immediately overwhelming, and he could barely see through the smoke, tears rolling freely from his eyes in a vain attempt to protect them. 

"Phasma!" He yelled, his voice echoing throughout the room, "Phasma!" 

Teary eyes scanned the room and he choked on the smoke, searching desperately until he saw a flash of brightness against the dark durasteel. He made his way over, past wreckage and mangled TIE fighters that had been caught in the blaze. Trooper bodies laid thrown about like they were mere ragdolls; Hux didn't know if they were all dead or some were just unconscious, but they were not his target. 

Phasma sat up, her head spinning inside her helmet. It had been a rather routine day before the attack, guiding her troops through a training exercise in one of the spare hangars. 

She removed her chromium plated helmet as General Hux made his way to her, still covering his nose and mouth with his arm. She moved to greet him but was met with a sharp, blinding pain that made her gasp out, hand going to the juncture of her hip and thigh to find the source of her discomfort. 

"Don't move," Hux warned as he sat next to her, "Shrapnel. Must have been a hell of a blast." 

Hux weighed the situation in his mind, and Phasma looked at the General as perspiration began to dot her hairline. 

"Probably looks worse than it feels." She said, trying her best to ignore the desire to scream in pain. 

The force of the blast had wedged the shrapnel into a gap between her armor plating, warping the plates so they dug into the soft skin beneath. Blood began to pool under her as ashes rained down like a thick blanket of snow. Her armor was smudged with it and showed signs that it had managed to stop other shrapnel pieces during the attack in minor dents and scrapes. 

Hux gave her an almost-smile. He had always been good at concealing his emotion, showing little past slight up or downward turns of his lips, but his eyes had all the intensity of a man with the weight of several worlds on his shoulders. 

"We need to get to an escape pod." He murmured, inspecting the wound a bit more. If he pulled the shrapnel out, he would risk Phasma bleeding to death before he had the chance to grab some bacta gel. Then again, the growing pool underneath him didn't fill him with confidence. He was no medic, but even he knew when things didn't look good.

The ship rocked with another explosion and the fire at the edge of the room flared into an inferno. They both coughed and gagged on the smoke filling their lungs. Phasma's head lulled slightly, her body beginning to feel sluggish with blood loss. She knew that shrapnel had buried itself deep and may have nicked an artery. 

"Go, General. I'll be fine." She said calmly, reaching over and patting his leg reassuringly. 

Hux would have been revolted if it wasn't Phasma's bloody hand on his leg; they had been through too much together to let the Rebellion stop them now. His eyes met hers, red rimmed with irritation and reading like an open book. 

"Don't look at me like that." She admonished with a small laugh, her skin beginning to pale in front of his eyes. The color bleeding out of her and onto the unforgiving durasteel. 

"I'm not leaving." He said sternly, his jaw setting. He moved to sit next to his friend, ignoring the wet feeling as his uniform pants laid in her blood and began to soak it into the woven fibres. 

"The First Order needs a leader, General, and I assume this..." She gestured broadly about the room, "is because of Ren. I'm sure he had some part in it." 

"I'm convinced, but I can't leave you." 

"When were you ever one for being sentimental?" She asked, cocking her head to the side slightly. 

Hux shrugged, trying to ignore the pale blue tinge to Phasma's lips as his heart hammered hard in his chest. His throat felt burned raw by smoke and his body was beginning to feel heavy, his head beginning to swim. 

"You've done so much for me. I'm not leaving you here and that's that." 

She tisked, "So stubborn." 

Hux let a smile tug at the corners of his lips again and he reached down, pulling Phasma's bloody glove off before removing one of his own and slipping their fingers together. 

"This is not a warriors death." She muttered, but nonetheless squeezed his fingers as the ship lurched forward and back again and an explosion lit up the darkness as a downed X-Wing streaked the sky with flaming shrapnel. 

"You lived the valiant life of a warrior, Phasma. You served the First Order well. And..." he paused to swallow past the dryness in his throat. "And me, as well. Thank you for everything you've done for me." 

Phasma smiled softly. "We should have killed Ren like we planned." 

Hux let out a genuine laugh that faded to sputtering and coughing, nodding his head. 

"Yes, yes we should have..." 

A TIE fuel tank ruptured on the other side of the room and sent a wave of heat their way, raining down radioactivity. Hux could feel his throat constrict further. Things were getting dire, but Hux no longer had the energy nor will to attempt the trek to save his own ass. He supposed Generals should go down with their ships, and while he may have been a selfish man, he wouldn't let Phasma die alone. 

"Armitage," she all but whispered, the bright blue fading from her eyes as she clutched at his hand, ash dirtying her beautiful blonde hair, "Thank you." 

She squeezed his hand once more and as he leaned over to touch her face, she was slipping into that black void of the other side. One last sigh as her eyes slipped closed. Hux slumped against the chromium armor, unable to keep himself from sitting upright anymore. The smoke was stealing the air away in the locked room. He gasped several times, body desperately trying to fight its fate as the ship continued to rock, chunks of it floating in the endless, silent vacuum of space as the Resistance tore through them. 

His eyes grew heavy and he could no longer move as he slumped over his friend, their hands still laced together between their bodies. He stared out into endless space, feeling himself slipping as the fire around them grew more intense. He gasped like a fish out of water, body convulsing in a desperate life-struggle. There should have been more pain for the predicament he found himself in, uniform saturated with soot and his friends drying blood, but he was oddly at peace with everything. Death was better than what, or who, may have awaited him if he were captured. He was a General who had committed genocide in the name of the First Order; he wouldn't have lived long after capture, and he wouldn't allow himself to become a prisoner. 

There will always be another leader, he thought. More battles, and even more war. There would be more stories, and Hux wondered, faintly, how he would be remembered. 

He hoped it would be as a destroyer of worlds.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As always my fic requests are open on Tumblr (chromiumhearts.tumblr.com). Let me know what you thought in the comments.


End file.
